


Enjolras' Scarf

by lacedwithlilacs



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Light Bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 09:17:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/835264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacedwithlilacs/pseuds/lacedwithlilacs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras is about to attend a protest when Grantaire leaves him with a sight and a touch meant to torture him all day long. Despite Enjolras' best intentions, he finds himself thinking about it all day. When he returns home, he makes sure that Grantaire feels the frustration that he has all day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enjolras' Scarf

**Author's Note:**

> The original inspiration is from this art -> http://speciate.tumblr.com/post/52041679709/
> 
> Enjolras' outfit is based off of this art -> http://perplexingly.tumblr.com/post/51575126492/

Grantaire begins the day with coming up behind Enjolras in the washroom, while Enjolras is tucking the ends his bright red scarf beneath the lapels of his vest, grasping Enjolras' crotch and rubbing his hand against the cloth teasingly. When Enjolras growls, reaching back to grasp his hands on Grantaire's hips, Grantaire pulls back, angling his hips away from Enjolras. "Tsk tsk," Grantaire chides in Enjolras' ear, breath hot and tickling against the sensitive skin, "you have a protest to lead." In the tiny mirror hanging on the wall that Enjolras checks his hair in, pulled back into a loose ponytail, he can see Grantaire smirking against his ear, Grantaire's devilish eyes hidden by a lock of his blonde hair.

Grantaire pulls away and exits the small room. Enjolras hears him flop onto Enjolras' bed, groaning as he reaches his arms above his head and stretches his back. Enjolras frowns at himself in the tiny mirror as he smooths his hair down and follows Grantaire into the main room. Grantaire has taken to rubbing his own crotch, his erection becoming more evident with every flick of his wrist and Enjolras frowns at him too now and turns on his heel to leave. "I'll probably be here when you get back," Grantaire says between a moan, "Think of me all day."

Enjolras stops in the doorway and turns again, Grantaire having now pulled his cock out from under his night shirt and unshamefully wrapping his hand around the base and stroking himself. "I have more important things to attend to and things to keep in mind than your habits with your hand." Grantaire grins dirtily and winks at him before his mouth falls open and a moan draws out from it.

Throughout the day, Enjolras busies himself with attending to the protest, organizing the rest of the Amis. He focuses on the work at hand, but the moment that he has any time to think, his mind flashes back to Grantaire this morning. He imagines Grantaire shucking his night shirt off, laying in Enjolras' bed, naked on his back with his cock between his fingers, stroking himself lazily and beckoning Enjolras to him. He forces his mind back to the protest, to ensuring that all of the members of the Amis are doing their part and he throws himself into his work 150% just to keep himself from stiffening inappropriately.

When he returns home, tired but his entire body still on edge, Grantaire is lazing in bed, half-awake and stretching his back as though he were a cat in the sun. Enjolras brings a loaf of bread home with him, knowing full well that buying something in a café would give him too much free time to think about Grantaire. He curses Grantaire for telling him to think of him while he was away.

 Grantaire sits up in the bed once Enjolras shuts the door, his chest bare and scratches at the top of his belly. His face breaks out into a smile as Enjolras places the bread on the small table, shifting and sitting on the edge of the bed. He wears a pair of underpants, flexing his toes on the wooden floor before he stands up and makes his way over to Enjolras. Enjolras shrugs his red coat off and hangs it on the small wooden peg near the doorway. "Hello my love," Grantaire says as he leans in and gives Enjolras a quick kiss to his lips. "How was your protest?"

Enjolras scowls as he tastes the wine on Grantaire's lips, though he didn't expect much else. "It was good," Enjolras says curtly and it's true. It had gone well, everyone had done their part and they'd caught a lot of public exposure. But Grantaire doesn't want to hear that and Enjolras doesn't have any particular desire to let Grantaire in on it either. Grantaire had chosen not come and Enjolras is still scorning him for his decision.

"Did you think of me the entire day?" Grantaire asks as he sits on the edge of the bed again, not much room for anything else in the tiny apartment. Enjolras' jaw tightens and he forces himself to smile only slightly, enough for Grantaire to see but enough to keep Grantaire from reading his expression.

"No," Enjolras lies and turns his back to Grantaire. He hears the creaking of the wooden frame as Grantaire stands up and walks up behind Enjolras again, his body heat radiating like a furnace in the cooling apartment as the sun sets. Enjolras toes his shoes off and places them next to the door, ignoring Grantaire's undeniable presence.

Grantaire reaches his arms around Enjolras' shoulders once the slender man stands up straight again, pulling on the ends of Enjolras' scarf and tugging them out from beneath the lapels of his vest. Grantaire rubs the ends between his fingers, toying with the fabric as he breathes into Enjolras' ear, soft and slow and torturous. "I don't believe you one bit," Grantaire says teasingly, his hands steady and firm and Enjolras knows he's had more than a little bit of wine tonight.

"What did you do all day?" Enjolras asks as he tries to keep himself composed, through the simple way that Grantaire leans just barely against him, pressing his hips against the swell of Enjolras' ass, defeats most of his attempts. If he hadn't been thinking of Grantaire all day, imagining coming home and taking Grantaire apart with only his tongue, then perhaps he would have a bit more restraint. But he's faltering and he knows that it's all part of Grantaire's master plan. "Lay in bed, drink and pleasure yourself?"

Grantaire chuckles in Enjolras' ear and it's not supposed to make Enjolras feel a shiver run down his spine, urge him to move his hips back against Grantaire, but it does and he curses himself for giving in so easily. "I drew," Grantaire says and Enjolras knows that it is most likely erotic drawings of himself. Grantaire's art was beautiful, even the sketches and Enjolras had to admit that if Grantaire had a sliver of ambition and drive that he could go places with his art. Instead, Grantaire chose to draw lewd pictures of a revolution student. "I was planning on going out to a café when I got drawn in by a picture of you, your hand firm around yourself and your head thrown back." Enjolras can hear the smirk on Grantaire's words.

"Don't draw such vulgar things," Enjolras chides as Grantaire releases the fabric of Enjolras' scarf, pressing his palms flat against Enjolras' chest and running his hands south. Every muscle in Enjolras' body tenses and he hates what Grantaire has done to him, but he never wants it to stop either. "It's not looked kindly upon in society."

Grantaire leans forward, giving up any modesty and begins attacking Enjolras' neck with his kisses, pushing the loose ponytail of wavy blonde hair to the other shoulder. He begins undoing the buttons on Enjolras' vest until the fabric begins to peel away from Enjolras' thin frame. "Nor is what I do to you in bed," Grantaire mumbles against the skin. Grantaire pulls away as Enjolras moves to face him again, his hand moving upwards and grabbing the scarf and pulling Enjolras in for a kiss on his lips.

Enjolras returns the kiss, completely abandoning any sort of self-restraint that he had been trying to keep. He brings his hands up, grasping at Grantaire's unshaven jaw, the stubble thick against his palms. He guides Grantaire to the bed, pushing Grantaire down as he shucks his vest off, letting it fall onto the floor in a haphazard dash to undress himself. He grabs at his scarf, untying the knot about to pull it from around his collar when he decides against it.

He covers Grantaire on the bed with his own body, leaning over the drunkard and grabs Grantaire's hands, interlocking their fingers together. Slowly, Enjolras pulls them up, over Grantaire's head and presses them flat against the mattress. He encircles Grantaire's wrists with one hand, a stretch for his small, delicate hands with Grantaire's thick wrists, and pulls his scarf with the other hand. He makes a quick loop and ties the scarf together. With the remaining end, Enjolras ties the scarf to the thin wooden headboard, threading the red ends through a decorative hole in wood.

Enjolras smirks against Grantaire's lips, the drunkard's mind finally catching up to the events and realizing his now half helpless state. Alcohol in this situation had been a plus for Enjolras. "Stay," Enjolras says against Grantaire's lips as he peels away from the larger man, working quickly to undo his suspenders, pull his shirt and trousers off and then his undergarments. He strokes himself in Grantaire's view, watching as Grantaire's eyes lock onto his hardening cock and his pupils thicken. Grantaire kicks his own underpants off as best he can without the aid of his hands, Enjolras helping him slightly.

Grantaire's hands flex in the bind as Enjolras leaves to grab the small collection of oil that they have stashed away in a cupboard. "I will make you feel as I did all today," Enjolras says as he looks Grantaire up and down. His hands bound above his head, his arms stretching out and his chest heaving from the kissing. His cock stands proudly, arching towards his stomach and Enjolras has to keep himself from reaching out and stroking him, just to watch his reaction. Grantaire on the verge of tipsy never attempted to veil his expression and the image of the drunkard's face twisting in pleasure and his lips falling open with moans as his eyebrows knit together was almost too much to pass up. Instead of touching himself though, Enjolras presses the pads of his first two fingers into the oil and lifts them, a small strand connecting the oil in the bowl to Enjolras' fingers.

Grantaire grins, evilly almost as Enjolras puts his fingers back into the cool, slick liquid and coats them thoroughly. "I knew you were lying," Grantaire teases before he settles back into the pillows, "Are you going to fuck me then tonight?" Grantaire asks bluntly and with such a thick layer of want and desire. The thought had barely crossed Enjolras' mind, instead planning to work himself open with only Grantaire's eyes on him and then proceed to ride Grantaire until Grantaire could resist no more and begged for Enjolras to undo the restraints. But Enjolras liked his idea too.

"Yes," Enjolras says firmly and tries to make it seem as though it had been his original plan all along. He didn't usually change in the middle of the situation and he would be damned if Grantaire would win in this round as well. "I will prepare you until you can barely string words together," Grantaire hips jerk upwards in approval, his jaw visibly tightening as Enjolras coats the back of his fingers and places the white ceramic bowl with blue accents on the small table near the bed, "Then I will fuck you until you can no longer remember any letters in your name, _R_." Grantaire swallows hard and looks up at Enjolras with hungry eyes, already begging with his expression alone.

Enjolras sits down, his fingers slick and nearly dripping with the oils as he grasps Grantaire's thigh with his clean hand. He spreads the thick thighs apart, the tanned skin so beautiful that Enjolras has the sudden desire to lean down and kiss it, tease Grantaire with kisses to everywhere except his cock. But Enjolras cannot wait any longer, already tense himself and he wants to make Grantaire scream. He presses the tip of his finger against Grantaire's entrance, watching as the darker man's face contorts into a mixture of pleasure and need already. "Enjolras," Grantaire hisses out as Enjolras circles the tight ring of muscles teasingly.

After a moment more of teasing, just enough to make Grantaire clench his eyes shut and push against Enjolras' finger, Enjolras presses his finger forward. He enters Grantaire, only up to the first knuckle, but Grantaire is already trying to fuck himself on the thin digit. "Jesus," Grantaire moans out as Enjolras pushes in further, until his finger is already fully entered. Enjolras slides his finger back out, the tip of his finger remaining and then moves forward again, slow and teasingly. "Oh good lord in _heaven_ ," Grantaire strings out, but his words are mostly of frustration rather than pleasure and Enjolras can practically hear the 'more' that poises on the tip of Grantaire's tongue. "Enjolras," he whines out, pushing against Enjolras' sole finger, begging for more already.

Enjolras places his dry hand on the top of Grantaire's stomach, the flesh soft against his palm, and forces Grantaire's hips against the bed. "Patience is a virtue," Enjolras says as he drags his finger out even slower. Grantaire bites at his bottom lip and throws his head back, his arms straining as Enjolras moves to bring his second finger to join his first. Enjolras leans down while Grantaire's vision is elsewhere, placing a single, chaste, close-lipped kiss to the underside of Grantaire's cock as his second finger enters Grantaire.

Grantaire cries out, his hips jerking up against Enjolras' hand. "Forget virtues," Grantaire pants out, "I want you to fuck me." Grantaire curses and Enjolras' own cock twitches at the vulgarity, knowing how badly Grantaire must want him now, but he cannot give in so easily. Grantaire made Enjolras feel on edge all day long and now Enjolras wants him to feel that same fate.

"I said I would not fuck you," Enjolras repeats the phrase back to Grantaire and the larger man's hips thrust harder at it, "until you were begging. Barely able to string words together." At this, Enjolras speeds his fingers up, fucking Grantaire with only his two, long, thin fingers. Enjolras ignores the aching of his dick, wanting so badly to bury himself in Grantaire and fuck him until there are stars clouding his vision.

His fingers brush against sensitive spots and Grantaire quickly begins to lose the ability to speak as Enjolras continues. Silencing Grantaire is a skill that Enjolras is certain he alone possesses. Enjolras extracts his fingers and moves to stroke own his member, coating the remaining amount of oil onto himself. Grantaire is still slick from the fingering and the extra oil that Enjolras had let collect on his fingers at first.

Enjolras moves to cover Grantaire with his body, Grantaire's eyes are full of lust, his pupils large and black and devouring every single inch of Enjolras. As Enjolras enters Grantaire, the eyes squeeze shut and a loud moan rips through Grantaire's throat. "Enjol," Grantaire begins and finishes instead with another groan. Enjolras cannot hold himself back anymore, no matter how hard he tries. It takes him a few thrusts, steadying himself inside of Grantaire before he finds his rhythm.

Though Enjolras rarely fucked Grantaire, the motions all come so naturally to Enjolras as though he and Grantaire had been made for each other long ago. They meet each other's thrusts as they continue, falling into a pattern until Grantaire is moaning with every thrust and he reaches to grasp Enjolras, only to find his wrists still tied. Enjolras can only imagine the marks on his back if he hadn't restrained the drunkard before. Grantaire's body arches against Enjolras' perfectly and Enjolras finds himself moaning into Grantaire's tanned neck when Grantaire clenches momentarily. Soon Grantaire's sounds devolve from Enjolras' name to simple moans and whimpers.

Grantaire's cock is hard between Enjolras' and Grantaire's bellies, pressing firmly against Enjolras when Grantaire arches. Enjolras shifts his weight and brings his hand down to wrap around the thick member. Grantaire's cock is long and thick and Enjolras loves the feeling of his fingers wrapping around Grantaire, so wonderful and so _his_. Though Grantaire might have boasted about his ability to bed anyone, they both know deep down that Enjolras is the only one who can truly satisfy Grantaire.

And so he does. He strokes in quick, short strokes, his wrist twisting with every upward motion and Grantaire's hips jerk in time between Enjolras' thrusts and his hand. Grantaire can no longer construct words, even Enjolras' name is barely discernible in his moans. Enjolras thrusts harder, his body coming to its peak as Grantaire comes with a shout. The larger man clenches around Enjolras as he comes, his body seizing up around Enjolras, and his cock paining their chests in Grantaire's come.

It takes two more thrusts before Enjolras comes himself, spilling himself into Grantaire and moaning Grantaire's name into his neck like a chant. Enjolras carefully lowers himself down on top of Grantaire, careful not to crush any vital organs as he lets himself lay on top of his lover, boneless. His vision comes back to him and his breathing steadies as he pulls out of Grantaire, his cock softening and he shakily unties Grantaire's wrists. The first few times, the scarf slips from Enjolras' grasp until he forces himself to focus and undo the binding.

Immediately upon being freed, Grantaire wraps his arms around Enjolras' thin shoulders, pulling the blonde hair from its ponytail. The waves of gold cascade over Enjolras' shoulders and frame his face, causing Grantaire to lean in and kiss him deeply. "My Enjolras," Grantaire says, barely audible and Enjolras isn't certain if he is meant to hear it or not. Grantaire nuzzles at Enjolras' neck, leaving soft kisses in his wake as he trails up to Enjolras' jaw. "Is that what I made you feel like all day?"

Enjolras nods and clears his throat once, "Yes," he replies shakily, well aware that his voice is rough and wrecked from the moans, but he continues on as though it doesn't bother him.

"Perhaps I ought to leave you with fond memories every morning then, if this is the result of them."

Enjolras purses his lips into a tight line before he nods once, "Perhaps you should."


End file.
